


one more breath before we drown

by ohlawsons



Series: cat nua [13]
Category: Pillars of Eternity, Pillars of Eternity II: Deadfire
Genre: F/M, Ficlet Collection, Pillars Prompts Weekly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 19:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14678184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlawsons/pseuds/ohlawsons
Summary: A collection of Deadfire-centric fics written for @pillarspromptsweekly on tumblr. Features various watchers and pairings, each of which will be notated in chapter titles and descriptions. Spoiler warnings will also be included prior to each fic!Update 01: Prompt 0040 - First Impressions [Neria/Eder]





	one more breath before we drown

**Author's Note:**

> i've decided to go ahead and do a separate fic collection for deadfire, similar to [for wandering souls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743709/chapters/29065173) which is going to only have pillars 1 fics. 
> 
> also, fair warning, although i did try to have neria romance either tekehu or xoti but ondra's at the top of neria's shit list and xoti's stuff never triggered. i won't go into specifics, but the ending also solidified it for me, so in this house we love and support both eder/watcher and bi!eder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Spoiler warning:** just for the very beginning of the game, minor spoilers for port maje
> 
> written for prompt 0040: first impressions!

There’s something about the sea air that takes her back. The salt in the wind, the chill of the air, the roiling of the deck beneath her feet. It doesn’t dredge up bad memories, necessarily, or good, just… memories.

She remembers cannon fire, the flash and the bang and the _thrill_ of sending a shot towards the enemy. She remembers the ache and the burn that comes with the physical toil, whether hauling sails or cargo or a crew member gone overboard during one of Rauatai’s relentless storms. She remembers the shaking, the weakness, the headaches, the way her body protested at long days in the sun when the rations ran low and even the burn of ale grew distasteful.

She remembers, too, returning to land after months away and vowing never again to leave it for so long.

But as she looks out now, over the seas of the Deadfire, standing up on a crate so that she can rest her hands atop the railing, Neria finds the notion of sailing far less offensive than her mind had recalled. Of course, it certainly helps that she’s a _captain_ , now, and traveling on her own terms and with her own crew. There’s not a storm in sight, out over the gentle waters, and the last ship to have crossed the horizon had done so hours ago. It’s quiet, and as much as she normally deplores the notion she’ll gladly take the few days of rest.

“Found somethin’ interesting out there?”

Edér’s voice pulls her from her thoughts, and Neria turns to find him making his way up from the lower deck, their little grey speckled cattle dog trotting dutifully at his feet. “Yep. _Very_ interesting. You and Penelope just missed it.”

“Ah. Maybe next time, then.” He joins her at the railing, staring out over the waters, the toe of his boot tapping impatiently against the deck. “How’re you holdin’ up?”

She hesitates; any time they’ve had alone the past few days has been plagued by exhaustion or duty or the gods, and now that she has a moment to breathe and take in everything that’s happened… she doesn’t want to. “I’ve lost my warhammer, my keep, most of my soul, Myra probably thinks I’m dead, and — _fuck_ , everyone’s going to think I’m dead. I don’t know _how_ to hold up, honestly, but I think I’m doing a pretty damn good job so far. Right?”

“I must’ve forgotten to tell you, with everything going on, but I sent a letter to Myra before we left. Hiravias, too.” Edér gives her an encouraging smile, reaching over to place a steadying hand on her back. “And Rona’s still back at Caed N— Well, they’re back at what’s left of the keep. Said they’ll take over as game warden for the area and keep an eye on the rubble.”

The news draws a tired smile from Neria. “Thank you. And gods bless Rona for being a far better guard than I ever paid them to be.” Her next question is quickly cut off by a shrill, insistent bark from Penelope; even standing on her hind legs, her nose is a full foot short to overlook the railing. Neria leans over to give her a quick scratch behind the ears, and earns a few licks on her hand in return. “What happened to… I mean, I know Pepper’s fine, and his leg is healing up well, but…” She bites at her lip and frowns, not certain she wants to know what became of her ever-growing collection of rescued cats that called Caed Nua their home.

“A lot of ‘em scattered.”

He doesn’t say more, and she doesn’t press; instead, she turns her focus once more to the sea, letting herself be distracted by the rhythmic roll of the waves and the gentle circles Edér’s beginning to make on her back. It’s simple, in the moment, and if she forgets about Eothas and Caed Nua and Berath, it’s almost peaceful. Except it _isn_ _’t_ , of course, and Neria doesn’t know what’s going to come of it all, or how to manage a sudden shift to a captain of a scarcely outfitted ship after spending years as a respected Lady with the clout and resources necessary to get things done in the Dyrwood.

She doesn’t even have her warhammer anymore, the weapon she’d carried at her side for close to ten years; she _is_ lucky enough to still have her hand axe, an elegant bronze weapon fashioned to match her hammer just months before. And then, of course, are all the other antiquities she’d gathered at the keep, the other fine weapons and trinkets and the dragons’ heads mounted in the main hall.

Her soul, at least, she has a chance of getting back.

“So, I know you didn’t wanna talk about it…” Neria tenses as Edér breaks the silence; she knows exactly what he’s going to ask, and he’s right — it’s the _last_ thing she wants to talk about — but he asks all the same. “You said Berath brought you back.”

“What am I if not a plaything of the fucking gods?” She doesn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her voice. “I said no, at first, and the Pallid Knight started to send me back to the Wheel. Like, for good. So then I said yes, because I had no fucking choice, and now I’m at Berath’s every beck and call.”

“Anything from Galawain?”

Neria falters, and all the fire and edge slips from her voice as she answers. “No. I’ve tried. But he’s the Lord of the Hunt. The Seeker God. I can’t just… I’ll find the answers when I search for them. He won’t hand them over to me, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t listened.” Edér’s hand has stilled, and his mouth twists into a frown; Neria watches him in silence, the tension making her own brow crease in concern. She wants to ask what’s wrong, but she suspects the turn in conversation has led his thoughts towards Eothas, and she won’t voice those concerns until he’s ready to, too. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just… wishin’ I could take back some of what I said about things not being excitin’ enough in Dyrford.” He gives her a smile that’s almost convincing enough to be genuine.

“Relax. Between my razor-sharp wit, your rugged good looks, and Aloth and Iselmyr’s combined charm, we’ll all be back to a boring provincial life in no time.”

 


End file.
